


blood doesn't mix with tears

by hedagriffen



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, Clexa, Eventual Romance, F/F, Grounder Clarke Griffin, Injury, Slow Burn, So much angst, Violence, did I mention the slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-06-01 22:19:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6538723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedagriffen/pseuds/hedagriffen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Clarke was born a Grounder and the Ark is still up in the sky doing all its space things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There will be more chapters to this I just can't get Ao3 to function. Thank you so much for reading!

The hut in which Clarke's mother lived was humble. It was made of a single room, a curtain separating the main living space from the sleeping quarters. A small table accompanied by one chair sat in the corner farthest from the door, and a small shelf made its home close by. The rest of the space was occupied by cloth and hides of animals. Half-finished suits of armor made of leather and iron were strewn about, as if forgotten by their maker. Tipora herself sat in the center of the floor, laboring over a pair of gloves, each one twice as big as her own callused hands. Her clothes were thin, her auburn hair tied in braids suited more for convenience than beauty. Her nose, once gently sloped, had been broken the week before after not filling her employer's wishes of a new suit of armor. 

A knock sounds against the thin door separating Tipora from the outside world. She jumps slightly, fear flitting across her heart and down her arms. She rises to her feet, hands frantically struggling to finish the last glove. The small-framed woman stabs her fingers more than once as she shakily breathes her allowance of entry. The door creaks open as she holds her breath, struggling to keep her eyes off of the floor. She breathes an audible sigh of relief as she sees Indra, a warrior in training, walk through the entrance before quickly shutting the door.

"What is it, Indra?" Tipora asks, concern outweighing cautiousness. 

" _Heda_ is coming for his gloves. I came to warn you," Indra says, walking over to the older woman. The girl reaches for the gloves, turning them over before handing them back. "They are a fine pair. You've outdone yourself," she says, a small smile making its appearance.

"Why would you feel the need to warn me? Has  _Heda_ said anything?"

Indra wavers, looking back at the door. "He has become impatient with Nemar. He believes him to be despicable. I can see what he has done to you, Tipora. If I were old enough I-"

"You would maintain your integrity. Nemar is but a coward in a man's body. Even if he wasn't, your seven summers are no match for his forty," Tipora says, resting a hand on Indra's shoulder before guiding her to the door and stepping outside with her.

The village of Ton DC was bustling. It wasn't often that the commander visited. Tipora knew it was only because of his impatience of waiting on Nemar to deliver his gloves after the last incident, but it was still rejuvenating to breathe in the sights and sounds of a busy Ton DC. She could hear horses approaching down the street; heads were moving to the sides of the road as the horse of the commander rose upon the hill overlooking Tipora's house. The chestnut beast puffed out fog as it descended into Ton DC, villagers surrounding it and its rider with yips and cheers of glee. 

The rider was a burly man, his height well above an average warrior while standing. He required a war horse all the way from the plains to be able to ride. His shoulder plate looked small on him, the blue sash hanging down didn't even reach the horse's stomach. His face held the scars of  _Azgeda_ and his black beard had been recently trimmed. His twenty four summers had hardened him into a handsome warrior. Despite coming from the Ice Nation, he swore allegiance to the Woods Clan and to Polis, which made him even more revered among his people.

Beside her, Indra gasped. Tipora smiled. It was common for the children of  _Trikru_ to have never seen the commander, and while Indra had carried his message to Tipora, the young warrior had yet to see his full magnificence. To Tipora, the sight of the commander has always been one of fear. She has seen three commanders during her twenty one summers, including the current one. The past two were the reason she had chosen the path of tailoring instead of becoming a warrior like her parents. The small woman couldn't have bared to be under the tight rule of those past commanders. This one, however, she has yet to meet.

The war horse pauses a yard or so from Indra and Tipora. Guards line the street, keeping onlookers a safe distance away from their commander and the tailor. The man dismounts his beast with ease, looking graceful despite his bulky frame. From her position, Tipora can just make out a tattoo swirling on his chest. He walks towards the two girls, his coat trailing behind him. The tailor can feel more than see Indra retreat a step, respect and fear outweighing her training. She smiles to herself; she was once that bright eyed not too long ago.

"Hello,  _Heda_ Ragnar. What a pleasure it is to meet you," Tipora says, almost on instinct. The commander's eyebrows rise slightly, a small chuckle breaking the silence of the street.

"You really mean that, tailor?"

She smiles before she responds, "My mother always taught me to be polite to my Commander, no matter how I feel."

Ragnar nods. The small tailor is not the first to say this to him. When he first ascended, it had been shocking to receive the amount of respect, or feigned respect, as the commander does. It angered him, too, for his subjects to openly admit that their respect had been taught to them, but as time passed he understood. These people, his loyal subjects, have never had a reason to be anything more than respectful and slightly scared of their commander. He had once been the same way, had he not? So he smiles, waves, and commands with an iron fist.

Their visit is short, a mere handing off the gloves and a small thanks from the man. Tipora believes it to be over as Ragnar turns back to her, as if just gathering the courage to do so. He studies her for a second, as if still working up the nerve to do something.

"Pardon me for asking, but how did you break your nose? You were described to me as having one of the prettiest."

She's taken back by the question. She looks back at Indra, whose face shares the same surprise. Tipora turns back to Ragnar, weighing her options. She could tell him the truth, yes, and set an even angrier Nemar on her tail, or lie, and face possible death for deceiving the commander. 

"Nemar broke it last week,  _Heda._ I had not finished a suit of armor to his liking," she says, looking down at her feet.

Her shoes, once new and beautiful were now old and cracked, the beginning of a hole forming on the toes of her right shoe. She is so busy studying her shoes that she doesn't register the commander's orders until they have been said and carried out. Nemar, a slight man whose hair was thinning on a head too small for his body, was roughly pushed through the ring of guards. He is shoved to his knees in front of the commander, excuses spilling out of his mouth at an incoherent rate.

"Tipora is nothing more than a  _goufa, Heda!_ She can not complete a simple task-"

A swift punch from Ragnar sent Nemar reeling. The commander's face was one of absolute, white hot anger. The villagers surrounding the scene were doing a dance of backing up and moving forward to see the punishment the tailor was suffering. Behind her, Indra was shaking. Tipora turned to the young girl, hands resting on her shoulders and looking deep into brown eyes.

"Indra, go find your First. Go find Mala."

The girl's head nods so much Tipora thinks it will fall off, and Indra runs into the throng of villagers behind them. The tailor turns back to the commander and Nemar, hearing a sickening crunch as the fist of the commander finds its mark again. Nemar's nose will be broken even more severely than hers, and blood is pouring from his nostrils as he sways on his knees. 

"If she is incapable, who made these?" The commander shakes the new gloves in front of Nemar, who struggles to focus in on them. Tipora knows the answer before it comes and braces for the impending rage of Ragnar.

"I did,  _Heda._ "

The roar of anger that leaves the commander's chest is unlike any she has ever heard. His fist connects with Nemar's face yet again, over and over, until the tailor, bruised and barely breathing, falls to the ground. Ragnar goes to kick the man, but a small hand on his arm stops him. He looks down, green eyes wild, to Tipora. He immediately retracts his foot and motions for his guards to remove Nemar from the street. Ragnar will deal with him later, outside of prying eyes. He looks back down to the brown eyes that had enraptured him the moment he slid off his horse. 

"You will not get an apology from me, Tipora. That man is a pathetic excuse of a human and will have to be banished," he says, slightly relieved at her answering nod.

Without another word, Ragnar leaves. He mounts his horse as easily as he had dismounted before trotting back down the road. A bloody Nemar had been attached the last guard's horse, and Tipora knew that was the last of him. She moves back into her house, pouring herself a cup of water before flopping down on her bed behind the curtain. 

And so, the next few months passed in relative calmness.  _Azgeda_ was as restless as ever, attacking outlying  _Trikru_ villages every few weeks. Tipora remained busy, her work doubled as she became the only tailor in Ton DC. She now had a second to help her, a young girl named Siki. Indra still visited whenever she could, finding solace in the small hut after long days of training with Mala. 

It wasn't until the commander visited again that Tipora realized his infatuation with her. He brought her flowers and furs, and on the last day of his three day visit, he gave her a leather bracelet. She recognized the leather as that from which the gloves she made for him. He just smiled and explained that one of the gloves had been torn by a spear from a rogue Ice Nation warrior, and he could not bear to let it go to waste. He visited again a month later.

It was the talk of Ton DC. Ragnar, the famous, ruthless commander, had a soft spot for a small tailor woman. Indra and Siki found it very funny that Tipora's cheeks would flush at the slightest mention of Ragnar. Mala did not, but Indra couldn't pass up the opportunity to see the tiny woman blush. The visits got longer, the longest lasting for a week under the pretense of Ice Nation warriors edging closer, but the villagers knew the real motive. 

Tipora grew to have a soft spot for Ragnar herself. She often zoned out in her home, only snapping to attention when she realized that she was halfway through a pair of gloves twice as big as her own hands or a belt that slid right over her body on its lowest setting. She did not realize the full extent of her relationship with the commander until the last night of his week long stay, one full of feasts and bonfires and dancing. She found herself by Ragnar's side more often than not, a drink always in her hand. Tipora wasn't usually the one to get drunk, but her infatuation with the commander and his hand always resting on her back nudged her closer and closer to a blackout. 

She remembers bits and pieces of that night now, as she rubs her stomach where a bump resides. She remembers Ragnar holding her hands above her head in his tent, and then his stubble tickling her stomach. She also remembers her cold bed when she woke up, realizing she had been moved and left. Tipora couldn't blame Ragnar for leaving though, for the war with  _Azgeda_ was going strong. She often received torn suits of armor to repair the mornings after a particularly big battle. 

She can't help herself but to wonder if Ragnar knows about his child.


	2. Ai Laik Rollo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heda Ragnar learns of his son and Tipora's heart gets broken.

At first, Tipora hated her son. He was always getting in the way of her work, or grabbing a glove to play with on the table, or crying. Rollo loved to cry. It drove his mother to near insanity at night. It was often that Tipora wished to throw the babe outside her hut for the wolves. Sometimes, only the thought of his father stopped her from carrying out Rollo's death herself. If it wasn't the thought of Ragnar, it was Indra. The girl had barely seen nine summers at the time of Rollo's birth, and yet it was she who calmed the frustrated Tipora. 

"I just don't understand, Indra! I feed him, I clothe him, he sleeps in my bed! I stay away from him, I don't hold him, and yet he continues to plague my rest and work!" Tipora says one day, throwing her hands into the air and walking away from the young warrior holding her child. 

"Just try to hold him, Tipora. Rollo is calm in my arms, look," Indra says, a small smile threatening to break her usual stoic face. 

After that, Tipora could not put Rollo down. She made a makeshift sling to hold him when her hands were busy with her work. She slept in the bed with him. She ate when he ate. The two were inseparable. A year passed, and she helped her son to walk. Tipora still got frustrated with her son, but her fits were few and far between. Siki would intervene when those boughs of anger rose to the surface, taking Rollo outside to play while his mother calmed down. The stressed mother would always apologize when Siki and Rollo returned, scooping her son into her arms and kissing his face. Rollo would laugh before begging to go back outside.

Rollo began to train when he was five, or so he said. It was nothing more than sword fighting with sticks and with his mother's second while Tipora was working. The young second would laugh at Rollo's attempts to best her, and would often throw her stick to the ground when the young boy's swing harder than usual.

" _Yu laik yuj, Rollo,_ " she would say, pretending to be surprised at the surge of strength. Rollo would smile and motion back to Siki's stick.

"We are not done, Siki!"

* * *

 

Ragnar was in his war room when he was told the news. It was five years late. The bulking man rushed out of Polis in such a hurry that one would think that  _Azgeda_ had attacked after a year of shaky peace. His war horse shook the Earth as he rode to Ton DC. The beast hadn't even stopped fully when he jumped off, his guards trying to catch up while simultaneously trying to corral his horse. The commander strode confidently towards Tipora's house, his blue sash waving behind him, but stopped as the door swung open. Tipora, in all of her small glory, steps outside, Siki's twelve-year-old self following soon after. 

" _Heya, Heda Ragnar,_ " Tipora says, a bittersweet smile crossing her features. She can see Indra just behind the commander, standing close to Mala. She looked more like a warrior than ever in the presence of Ragnar.

"Where is he? Where is my son?" Ragnar asks, his eyes searching for Rollo. Tipora nods to Siki, who retreats into the hut for a moment before emerging with a trembling Rollo gripping her fingers. 

Rollo, all green eyes and black hair, peeks out from around Siki's knees to watch the giant man before him. Ragnar falls to his knees, overcome by the sight of his son. His blood. His large hand reaches out, silently beckoning the small child to join him. Rollo looks to his mother, cautious of the man. Tipora nods, gesturing to Ragnar. The young boy steps forward, around Siki, to the commander. He reaches Ragnar and feels a strong hand rest on his shoulder, weighing him down. 

"What is your name, little man?"

" _Ai laik Rollo,_ " the boy says, looking up into the wild eyes of the man before him. His beard, once short and cropped, has grown into a magnificent snarl of tangles and braids. His face holds a scar from an Ice Nation warrior's sword, and his bare chest is adorned with a tattoo of a wild wolf inked in swirling patterns. Rollo's questioning eyes scan over the commander before a small laugh spills out of his mouth.

"You're big. How do you fit through doors?" he asks, forgetting the fear he felt just a minute ago. 

"I've never thought of that. Most doors are big enough for me," Ragnar says, smiling as he wraps his son in his arms. He pulls back when he feels tiny hands against his chest.

"Do you want to train with me? Siki says I'm stronger than  _Heda._ "

"Did she now? She has obviously never fought against me then. I am the strongest  _Heda_ of them all."

A look of awe crosses Rollo's face, then realization. "Are you my  _nontu_?"

" _Sha._ "

"Cool."

* * *

 

Rollo was six when the Ice Nation attacked Ton DC, looking for the son of the commander. The warriors living there drove them out, Indra included, but it was too late. An arrow had found its mark, landing squarely in the young child's chest. Tipora, frantic, had rushed him to the village healer. Nyko was young, only seventeen summers, but he tried everything he could. The son of Ragnar could not be saved, however. Tipora, heartbroken and angry, had to be dragged out of the healer's hut by Siki and Indra as she tried to destroy everything Nyko owned. 

Ragnar learned of his son's death much faster than his birth. He declared war on the Ice Nation almost instantly, anger clouding his judgment. He rushed to battle with only half of the warriors necessary to best the opposing Ice Nation force. He fought fiercely alongside his generals, watching as each one fell around him and the remaining portion of his army flee.

His pyre was built next to Rollo's.

* * *

 

It was a long time before Tipora could come outside. She dove into her work, pushing Siki and Indra away as she worked until she bled. Indra, despite doing everything she could possibly think of, could not budge the small woman. When she turned sixteen, one month before Rollo's seventh birthday, Indra was appointed to leader of Ton DC. Mala, her former first, had been summoned to become one of the new  _Heda's_ generals. With the help of Siki, Indra managed to drag Tipora outside. The former mother, once bright and happy, had a dark cloud over her head. Everywhere she went, she sagged. Siki had to lift her several times as the woman threatened to fall over. She often shared looks with Indra, ones full of pity and helplessness. 

It wasn't until the anniversary of the new commander's ascension day that Tipora finally felt alive. She had been sleep-walking for an entire year, and the sound of the dancing and bonfires outside finally forced her to emerge from her hut. She spent the night drinking and dancing with warriors, blacking out once again as she had seven years prior. When she woke in an unfamiliar tent, she thought nothing of it, returning to her everyday sadness over her lost men.

It wasn't until she found out about her second child that she began to see the end of her tunnel. Tipora vowed to herself that day:

This child would  _not_ die.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can find me on tumblr at hedagriffen and feedback is always welcome!


	3. Klark kom Trikru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! It's been a while, finals are a pathetic waste of time but here we are. 
> 
> Klark gets her first taste of being a grounder.

Tipora gave birth during one of the worst storms ever to hit Ton DC. Thunder boomed and lightning crashed as she lay in Nyko's hut, sweat pouring just as much as the rain pounding the roof. Siki and Indra were by her side, hands threatening to break under her grip. She'd been in labor for over seven hours, longer than Rollo had taken.

"If this child doesn't come out soon I'll cut it out myself," she said through her teeth, gritting as another wave of contractions answered her threat.

"It tests you. This child will be a great warrior," Indra had stated, smirking as the mother groaned and panted. 

It took another two hours for the child to be born, a girl with eyes the color of the tumultuous sky outside and a small tuft of blonde hair on top of her head. A small freckle adorned her top lip, and she smiled a toothless smile as Nyko placed her into her mother's arms. 

"Ugly little thing, isn't she?" Tipora had said, barely managing to keep her eyes open. In truth, her child was beautiful, she knew, but it wasn't her job to praise the girl for being born. She had promised that this girl would not die, and she planned to honor that promise.

 

* * *

When Klark was able to walk, Tipora shut her in the hut where they lived. She couldn't go outside, she couldn't play with the other  _yongons._ Her mother kept her locked away with Siki and herself, sheltering a child that didn't need it.

Klark was a storm in her own right, like the one that had raged during her birth. She was a whirlwind of giggles and frowns and temper tantrums. Indra, seventeen years her senior, often commented on the girl's spirit to her mother.

"She's strong, for only having seen two summers, Tipora. All I'm suggesting is that she trains with a warrior when she's old enough," she would say, watching Tipora's face for any sign of acceptance. 

She never got any.

* * *

 

When Klark was six, she snuck out. Her blonde hair, just barely able to reach her shoulders, was tucked away in a spare piece of fabric from her mother's work station. Her hair was a beacon, a siren, to anyone in the village. Klark hated it, people so easily recognized her when they came to get their clothes because of her hair. Siki tried to convince her that her hair was a gift, that she had it for a reason, but that reason was hidden to Klark.

She played with the other children for the fort and last time that day. They had been laughing, kicking a ball back and forth to each other when suddenly she was pulled around by her arm to be face to face with her mother. Tipora had ripped off her hair cover, yanking some of Klark's hair in the process. The young girl was frozen in fear, too scared to yelp at the pain arching through her scalp. She did yelp, however, when her mother's hand smacked her into the ground.

"You _goufa._ What were you thinking? You are supposed to stay in the house! I put rules in place for a reason,  _Klark_ _!_ " Her mother yelled, grabbing Klark by her upper arm and yanking her all the way to their door, where she threw the child inside. 

Klark cried for an hour before her mother returned, still mumbling under her breath about Klark's insolence. 

"Why can't I go outside,  _nomon?_ " She asked, her voice barely a whisper as she sniffled.

"Because I said so, that's why."

"That doesn't make any sense! All the other  _yongons_ get to play outside!" Klark said, crossing her arms and pouting. Her bottom lip stick out and trembled, but it was too late to turn back from the fury her mother contained in her small body.

"The other children's mothers don't have to worry about them, that's why! You are such an insufferable child. Do you not think of your mother at all? I feed you, I clothe you, you have a roof over your head, and yet you still defy me!" Tipora's auburn hair slung around as she turned to face her daughter, a cold fury over her face.

"I don't want a roof! I want to live under the stars," Klark said, looking away from her approaching mother.

"I promised that you wouldn't be hurt. You cannot leave this house."

"You didn't promise me," Klark said, looking up in time to earn another sharp crack across her cheek.

"Go to bed, now!" Tipora turned back around to work on a set of clothes for Indra, still fuming at the girl who dares to question her. Her! After all she's been through. 

Klark went to bed on an empty stomach, crying silently. This was the first of many altercations between her and her mother as Tipora started to drink more heavily, and everytime, her hatred grew. Klark vowed to herself that one day, when she was older, she would become a warrior and come back to prove to her mother that she could survive outside. 

* * *

 

When Klark was ten, her mother told her about Rollo in a blind rage. Klark, ever the challenge, had been arguing with Tipora about becoming a second. Indra had offered to teach her everything she knew, just as Mala had taught her.

"I'll be safe! It isn't like I'll be going off to war,  _nomon!_ "

"I can't loose you Klark!"

"You've never cared about me! Why do you act like you're trying to safe my life everytime I do something against your wishes?" Klark had said, pleading with her shaking mother.

"Because I lost your brother! He was playing outside, already talking about becoming a warrior at six summers!" Tipora said, head in hands as she sat on the bed.

Klark froze. A brother? She had a brother? A dead brother, obviously, but a brother nonetheless. 

"Who was he?" Klark said, moving to sit by her distraught mother. It wasn't often that she showed Tipora any sort of affection, holding the grudge of years or abuse against the small woman. From her side, Klark could see the bump on her mother's nose, subconsciously wondering what had happened to it. Klark's own nose was sloped like her mother's had been, not that she knew that.

"His name was Rollo, he had just seen six summers when Ice Nation warriors attacked our village. They had found out that he was  _Heda_ Ragnar's child," Tipora said, looking at the ground as fresh tears rolled down her face, fresh tracks following through the grime of the day.

"I'm not Rollo," Klark said, making Tipora's head turn. "You can't treat me as if I am."

Tipora studied her daughter. Her blonde hair was done up in braids, making her stormy blue eyes pop in contrast. Klark was right. She wasn't Rollo. Rollo, with his black hair and green eyes, his infectious laugh. He could make Tipora smile at the drop of a hat. His ambition to become a warrior like his father was admirable of a six year old. Yes, Klark was correct. She was not Rollo.

Klark, with her temper and need to defy her mother, was the complete opposite of Rollo. Tipora's unwavering dislike for the child in front of her struggled to maintain itself as the mother connected the dots.

She disliked her daughter because her daughter could never be Rollo. Any attempts to be a good mother would be futile. Klark was not Rollo.

"You're  _Klark kom Trikru_ , Indra's Second," Tipora said, standing up and grabbing a small bag.

Klark's eyes lit up. "You mean it? I can train with her?"

Tipora turned, holding the bag now full of Klark's things. " _Sha._ Under one condition."

"Anything."

The mother's returning smile was one full of a bittersweet decision. Klark stood, finally seeing the bag of her belongings hanging from her mother's small and callused hands. 

"Leave and never come back Klark. You were right. You aren't Rollo. Indra will be a better mother to you than I could ever be."

Klark stood in disbelief. Her mother was kicking her out. Her mother! Blue eyes turned grey as tears welled up in the girl's eyes. "I don't want Indra, she isn't my  _nomon."_

"Then you better find one, because neither am I," Tipora said, opening the door to reveal storm clouds and biting wind. 

And so, bag in hand, Klark walked out of her mother's house. It started to rain as she made her way to Indra's hut in the center of Ton DC, and Klark was thankful.

The rain hid her tears.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr at hedagriffen and be my friend! It gets lonely over there


	4. Nowe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Indra teaches Klark lots of lessons.
> 
> They hurt.

Indra had been expecting Klark. She had been watching over the girl since birth, after all. Indra knew that Klark wanted to train, to become a warrior, to be Indra's Second. It secretly made her pride swell at the young girl so eagerly wanting to train with her.

What she didn't expect was for Klark to show up on her doorstep with a bag of her belongings after nightfall, rain biting at her exposed skin and eyes red from crying. It had taken her aback, the visual of a broken girl hugging herself and looking at Indra like the warrior was her last hope. Indra had pulled Klark inside her house, much bigger than Tipora's, fussing over getting the girl dry. There was no hesitation in the movements of the warrior as she wrapped furs around small shoulders and led Klark into her bedroom, lighting more candles as she went. They didn't talk as Indra set to making a fire in the small fireplace just to the right of the bed.

Klark was grateful for the silence and the warmth of the fire. It was as if Indra knew what had happened. Of course, she could not have possibly known, but Indra's actions gave the girl comfort. Indra moved to sit on the bed behind Klark, fingers moving to undo the soaked, ragged braid. Her fingers, callused from years of training, starkly contrasted against the pale hair. She ran her fingers through the hair and rubbed Kalrk's scalp, something her mother used to do, watching as the girl's eyes closed. The tenderness from the supposedly rigid leader of Ton DC made Klark want to cry again.

It was in that moment that Klark felt the most secure that she had ever felt, wrapped in furs and sitting by a fire as Indra fixed her hair.

* * *

The next morning was much of the same. Klark woke to birds chirping and the early morning sounds of the village. The warmth of the bed was something new to her, however. It had been too long since she had slept in a bed, much less one this comfortable. Her mother had made her sleep on the floor more often than not. Klark tried not to think about Tipora as she closed her eyes again, but the images of their last conversation the night before rang through her mind. It made Klark shudder and hold back a sob. Her own _nomon_ had kicked her out of the only place she had ever known. All because of some brother who had died a whole year before Klark was even thought of.

"I see you are up, _Klark._ " Indra's voice seeped into the room as the warrior swept in, dressed to the nines in her combat gear. The sight of the woman before her had Klark sitting up quicker than a blink. The girl nodded, not trusting her own voice. Indra looked at her, almost as if trying to solve a problem, before moving to sit beside Klark.

"What ails you?" she says, looking at the frail girl beside her.

"My _nomon_ said I could be your Second," Klark says, hands fidgeting under the furs still wrapped around her. Indra's face must give off something like confusion at the statement, so Klark continues. "We had a big fight about it. She told me about Rollo and I said that she couldn't treat me like I was him."

Indra nods. She'd had the same conversation with Tipora ten years earlier when Klark was born. It made her feel sympathy for the child. Indra motioned for Klark to keep going as she sat, listening keenly.

"She told me I was right, and then she kicked me out. She gave me all of my things and then opened the door."

Indra watched as tears slid down young cheeks. Suddenly, the warrior wanted nothing more than to march to the tailor's door and bash her teeth in for hurting the girl in front of her. Klark, with her strong spirit and determination was a better person than three Tiporas, that much Indra knew. She wished that the conversation with Tipora ten years ago had gotten to the woman, but it had not. Indra studied the girl beside her, eyeing her crystal blue eyes rimmed in red, her sloped nose, and her pouty lips, before stopping just above the girl's jawline. A bruise, just big enough to see with a naked eye, had blossomed underneath Klark's cheekbone. Indra reached out, almost in a trance, to rest her fingers over it, making Klark flinch.

"When did this happen?" she asked, fury towards Tipora growing with every passing second.

"A few days ago, I think. It will heal like the other ones, don't worry," Klark says, looking down at her lap. She can just barely see Indra shaking in rage beside her before the warrior stands up.

"I will be back shortly. When I return, we will start training," she says before disappearing out the door.

Klark could feel Indra's anger as she slammed the front door shut, making the entire house shake.

* * *

 

Klark's first lesson was how to hold a knife properly. It was easy enough, so Indra moved on. She taught Klark how to throw the knife at the training grounds, stopping every few throws to adjust the girl's form. Klark had a natural ability for knives, and after an hour of knife training, the pair switched to swords. Finding the right sword for Klark was a struggle. The girl was small for being ten summers, and her arms and legs were gangly. Indra opted for a small sword, not much longer than Klark's arm, for the blonde to train with.

It was grueling. Indra battered and bruised Klark to the point where pain was a distant feeling. The warrior had gotten frustrated with Klark's absolute lack of skill that the pair had retired early, Klark returning to Indra's home as her First went to meet with Nyko. When she had returned, the sun had started to set and Klark was sleeping. Indra had woken the girl up ever so gently to give her a tea to help with the pain of the day's lessons before tucking Klark back in.

The next day was much of the same. Klark still could not hold the sword properly and was on her ass and back more than she was on her feet, yet Indra persisted. The night consisted of more tea and bandages around Klark's bleeding hands.

"We will take the day off tomorrow, _Klark_ , " Indra had said, moving to leave the girl in peace.

"No! I don't want to stop," Klark's reply came out slightly muffled by the girl's exhaustion. Indra turned back to her with an incredulous look.

"Your hands are bleeding, and you've got more bruises than I give out on sparring day," the warrior says. "Give yourself a break, _Klark_."

" _Nowe._ "

Indra smiles in disbelief. Klark, no matter how broken she seems, wants to fight. She has to. It makes Indra proud, even if it isn't the smartest choice. Klark truly was a warrior.

"We will take it easy then, tomorrow, or we don't train at all."

The girl nods ferociously and it makes Indra swell with admiration. Klark was going to be alright.

* * *

The first life lesson that did not require battle training was a tough one. Klark, ever the child to test Indra's patience, had run off to play with some other _yongons,_ something that Indra usually wouldn't mind. Letting Klark outside to play and be a child was key to Indra, who knew that the girl had never gotten that chance before. On this day, however, Klark was supposed to meet Indra at the house around noon for their English lesson. It was now well into the afternoon and the child had yet to show up. When she did, all sweaty and dirty, with the biggest smile on her face, it took all of Indra's strength to not rip into Klark like she would've liked. Klark was not in the right place of mind to be on the receiving end of Indra's yelling yet. Instead, Indra decided to teach Klark one of the hardest lessons she ever had to learn:

Blood doesn't mix with water.

"Where have you been, _branwada_?"

Klark freezes just inside the doorway, realization crossing over her face. She turns slowly to see Indra sitting at the table in the center of the room, carving something into the wood with her knife.

"Outside with some other _sekens_ ," she says, following the unspoken order from Indra to sit down across from her First.

"Do you know what time it is?"

"Not noon," Klark's voice shook with something close to nervousness tinged with fear.

" _Sha._ What were we supposed to do at noon, _Klark_?"

"My English lesson."

Indra nods, twirling the knife. "You know that, as your First, I am your family now. Your blood."

"Of course, Indra. You told me that my first day of training."

"Which was over a season ago. It makes me wonder about your memory if you cannot remember something that was just taught to you."

Indra's tone makes Klark shiver. The warrior in front of her, with her knives and warpaint, looked threatening. It made Klark more attentive to the woman's body language, the way she lazily twirled her knife and etched meaningless patterns into the table. Indra was scarily calm. Klark dared not respond as she watched Indra stand from her chair.

"Blood does not mix with water, _Klark_."

This small sentence, only seven words long, embeds itself into Klark's mind far quicker than any other lesson Indra has taught her. It means a lot more than just the physical form of blood not mixing with the river in the woods. Klark's blood comes before all else. Her First should be her priority. Anything else should be a side note, something that Klark can do when not under orders or training. Every waking moment with Indra should be about becoming a warrior, about training. Playing with the other children was for her days off, not for when she had an English lesson.

"This doesn't just include me. It includes every general or warrior who out ranks you. This lesson will follow you for the rest of your life. When you become a warrior, your family surrounds you. Your blood stretches into every warrior on that battle field. Your _Heda_ falls into that category too," Indra says, resting her palms on the table.

"So when I'm a warrior, I'll have to care for my _Heda_ and fellow warriors first, and then the other stuff?"

Indra nods. She just told the girl the most valuable lesson she'll ever learn. Warriors look after each other before all else. The sooner the girl in front of Indra knows this, the better. It kills Indra inside to tell Klark that her days of playing outside are practically over, that what she should have had before she started training was taken from her by her own mother, but Indra has to make it clear to the young girl.

"I won't play again then. I'm all yours, just tell me what to do," Klark's response startles Indra. It took the warrior an entire week to forgive Mala for teaching her this lesson, and yet here Klark is, beaten down and broken by her mother, telling her that she'll drop the water. She serves her blood now.

* * *

When Klark is thirteen, a new commander ascends. Indra doesn't tell her much, only that it is a girl who killed off her competition in such an extreme fashion that the bodies had to be put back together like a puzzle. The thought disgusts and intrigues Klark at the same time, not that she would tell Indra that. Something about the new commander sets the warrior's teeth on edge, so Klark stays away from that topic.

At this point in her training, Klark has become a skilled swordsman, still using the sword Indra had given her three years ago. She can almost match Indra blow for blow, only falling every now and then to the seasoned fighter. It makes Indra secretly proud of the blonde girl, and it takes all of her to not tell Klark exactly what she thinks. Klark is almost as good as her. It scares Indra as well. At thirteen, Klark beats every Second she spars with. At this rate, Klark will be better than all of them by her fourteenth summer.

Klark wins every sparring match in spectacular fashion, twirling and jabbing and blocking as Indra looks on, sometimes commenting on her form. It makes Klark feel accepted to hear the clapping of the surrounding warriors as she downs Second after Second. It isn't until after successfully beating Lincoln, a Second four years her senior, that Klark gets her first big challenge. Warriors had stopped their training to watch the girl with golden hair best Lincoln in a record three minutes, some looking shocked and even more passing money between hands.

"She is not that great. She could not best me even if she tried," a voice rang out in the clearing, effectively shutting everyone up. A woman with light brown hair and cutting cheekbones steps into the makeshift circle around Klark. Her hand rests easy on the sword at her hip. Mumbling instantly races up and down the crowd as villagers make their way over to watch.

Klark wasn't an idiot. This woman was no Second. She also wasn't just any First. This woman, with her deadly cheekbones and wicked sword, was none other than Anya. It made Klark tremble as she thought of who this woman trained. The new commander, the one who had disembodied her competition for _Heda,_ had come from Anya. Klark's tongue suddenly felt heavy and uncomfortable as she looked at Indra. Indra, who was usually stoic and solid, looked surprised at the least and scared at the most.

"You've traveled far, _Onya_ ," Indra says, ever the leader of her village.

"Polis is not that far. Horses have traveled worse," the woman says as she looks Klark up and down. "Skinny little thing, isn't she? How does she manage to best her opponents?"

"I've taught her well," comes Indra's reply, looking at Klark with hidden pride.

Anya pulls her sword out of its scabbard, studying the cool metal. "Then I should be no problem, _sha_?"

Indra looks uneasy. Klark has never sparred against anyone of Anya's skill except for Indra, who she loses to almost every time. This could end poorly for the blonde standing a few feet away. Indra is about to decline when Klark's head jerks to her, eyes begging what her mouth cannot say. She wants to fight, to prove herself, but to who? She has proven herself to every warrior in attendance after besting Lincoln. Indra scans the large crowd that has grown with villagers anxiously waiting to watch the match between legend and _yongon._ It is then, as her eyes search the crowd, that she spots flaming auburn hair and a broken nose. Three years without her daughter has done Tipora well, a fact that Indra knows affects Klark. Beside the small woman is Siki, now the head tailor of Ton DC. She looks on nervously as Tipora watches without emotion. Indra looks back to Klark before deciding to let the girl fight. This was as much for Klark as it was for Tipora.

Indra nods, and Klark opens her stance into one of caution.

"That's a nice trick. You teach her to listen to every part of your body, Indra?" Anya's taunting sets Klark's jaw into a steady grind.

The pair circle each other, each feature contrasting their partner. Anya's steps are lighter, something that comes with decades of training, and her hands are loose in relaxation compared to Klark's clenched fists. The blonde attacks first, right fist swinging in a well timed punch. The move throws Anya off, who was expecting a sword attack. Even with her reflexes, the blow lands a solid hit on her jaw, sending her head snapping to the side. The crowd cheers as Klark backs up, and the pair begin to circle again.

It's like a dance, the weaving and dodging of Anya's body compliments the jabs and swings of Klark's blade. Anya steps in close, jabbing her elbow into Klark's stomach. The girl doubles over into Anya's upward swinging fist, causing blood to flow from her nose. Klark reaches up as she backs away from Anya, feeling for a break. There is none, so she dives back in. Every slash of Klark's blade is met with a block of Anya's own. It frustrates Klark to no avail that Anya will not attack. Indra picks up on it.

"Relax, _Klark_! She is doing that on purpose!"

Klark hears her First and pulls back, distancing herself from the woman in front of her.

"Enough of this," Anya says, charging the blonde and wrapping her arms around a slim stomach. The girls fall to the ground as the crowd cheers, and Anya is quick to straddle Klark. The blonde, sword forgotten a few feet away, brings her arms up to shield her face, elbows locked as she takes blow after blow on her forearms. Anya is smiling above her as she rains punches to Klark's stomach and arms. She gets in a solid hit to the girl's face, sending her head to the side, where her stormy blue eyes meet her mother's. The emotionless stare of Tipora is enough to get Klark surging up in a sudden bought of adrenaline. She manages to flip Anya over before returning everything she received.

The smirk disappears as Anya blocks her punches, and before Klark knows what is happening two arms are around her waist and picking her up, only to slam her into the ground. Her head hits the dirt hard and she cries out, vision going blurry as she can just barely make out Anya's triumphant smile. Indra is the first to reach her, crouching down to examine her.

" _Klark,_ can you hear me? _Klark_?"

Klark wakes up in Nyko's tent a day later. She can see Indra sitting next to her, asleep in her chair. It makes her smile.

And then she sees her mother. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated, so comment your thoughts! As always, you can find me on tumblr at hedagriffen.


	5. Em Pleni

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klark turns 17 and things start happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back again! Lots of things happen in this chapter and some of you might hate be but out favorite couple still has to wait to meet :(  
> Yay!!1 for backstory!

Klark was disoriented, to say the least. Her head felt like it was splitting open as she opened her stormy eyes to see a sleeping Indra beside her. The light from outside was blinding and it was all the young warrior could do to not slam her eyes shut. It is almost as bright as her hair, sweaty and matted, which clings to her face and neck like a leech. Klark clears her throat as she looks up, her mouth dry and lips slightly cracked.

Nyko's tent is nothing like she had imagined it to be on the inside. The resident healer of Ton DC had stockpiles of herbs and salves on two shelves along the back wall. The jars glimmered with colors and contents that Klark had never seen. Three beds, one occupied by Klark, rested on the right side of the room, presumably for Nyko's patients. A seperate bed on the left side was separated by a curtain. It was bigger than the others to accommodate Nyko's bulking frame, but the furs were made and the healer was nowhere to be found. The remaining space contained several tables with bandages and stations to make more medicines. Klark looks to her left, expecting to continue her study of the tent when her eyes meet none other than her mother's.

" _Heya, Klark._ "   

Klark blinks, too surprised to complete more complicated tasks such as thinking and breathing. She stares at Tipora with a look of fear and disbelief, but an underlying hate is picked up by the small woman in front of her. 

"You hit your head hard yesterday,  _yongon_ , are you alright? Nyko put some medicine on where it was bleeding and bandaged you up so you should be fine-"

"Why are you here,  _nomon_ _?_ _"_ Klark asks, cutting of the babbling tailor. 

Tipora freezes. She herself hadn't known what she was doing until she had found herself sitting by Klark's beside and running her fingers through blonde locks. The past three years had been good to her, fantastic, even. So why was she there?

"Seeing you not moving scared me. I had to make sure you were alright," Tipora admits, realizing the truth behind her words. 

"You are lying. Leave before I wake Indra to escort you out."

" _Klark_ , it is me, your mother! I only care about your well-being," Tipora says, eyes flitting to Indra's sleeping form across Klark. She watches as Klark's face turns from on of mixed emotions to pure amusement. The young warrior starts to smile as she shakes her head at her mother.

"You care about my well-being? You kicked me out onto the street when I was ten-"

"I sent you to Indra-"

"Ever since I was born, I have had these misguided expectations thrown upon me because of a brother I have never known. You kept me locked up inside the house and made Siki watch me everyday while you went out and drank yourself stupid. You came home and hit me and made me cry but never cared. You don't have a caring bone in your body, mother. The only thing you care about is alcohol," Klark says, fighting off her headache to realize that she was now standing, towering over her cowering mother. 

"I did those things to protect you!  _Azgeda_ were attacking-"

"The Ice Nation has not attacked  _Trikru_ in over six years. What were you protecting me from? Other  _yongons,_ bugs? Tell me," Klark fires back, throwing her hands into the air. Silent rage covers her young face as she stares at her mother.

I couldn't loose you like him! I've told you that before, yet you don't listen! How do you expect to become a warrior when you can't even forgive me for something I did three years ago? Get over yourself,  _Klark._ "

Klark watches as her mother paces up and down the tent, venting anger that Klark hopes is directed somewhere else but knows is directed at her. Her, who did nothing wrong except be born to a mother still mourning a brother that won't live past six summers. Klark's rage boils as she stands in front of Tipora, hands clenched in small fists.

"You tell me to get over myself, but you can not get over an affair with a commander! This is not about Rollo at all, is it? This is about you losing the one thing that reminded you that someone could love you! You looked at my brother like a prize, didn't you? 'Look over here, Siki, look at my trophy!' You're pathetic. I guarantee that  _Heda_ Ragnar was into you for your body, not yourself, because you are a horrid excuse for a human being if I ever saw one."

The crack of skin on skin answers Klark. It makes her head pound even more than it had been, and involuntary tears spring up from the depths of her eyes. Tipora looks manic, her auburn hair wild and eyes giving Klark the satisfaction of knowing she was right. Tipora rears back again, making the young girl flinch, but the blow never gets there. Two bodies collide with the floor as Indra tackles the tailor. The warrior easily pins her to the ground as Klark looks on with pride.

"You were never to touch her. Do you not remember our chat the night you sent her to me? I said that if you ever laid a hand on that  _yongon's_ head again that I would have yours. She is not your daughter, right? Didn't you tell me that I could have her? She is my  _seken_. _Klark_  is a great warrior already-"

"And yet she lost to a drunken _Onya_? You knew she was drunk, right? Having her Second taken away from her did her no good. I wonder what would happen if  _Klark_ was taken from you," Tipora says, grinning at the shaking Indra above her. 

"By giving me permission to become her First and to raise her, you granted me parenthood. She is my daughter more than yours now. If I wanted to, I could have you killed for harming her, but I don't wish to. You used to be my friend, Tipora. Try to find it in you to leave us alone," Indra says, rising off of the tailor. 

The women stand together, locked in a battle of eyes and wits. Tipora swings fruitlessly as Indra blocks her tiny arm and returns a fist to the mother's already broken nose.

" _Em pleni!_ " Klark's command rings out in the tent, forcing Tipora to give one last look at the two warriors before holding her bleeding nose and rushing out of the tent. 

Indra looks ready to apologize, but Klark waves her off as she collapses back into the bed, pain overcoming her ability to stay awake.

* * *

 

When Klark is sixteen, three years after her fight with Anya, she grows. It is quick and painful and it causes her to eat everything in sight. The only recognizable things still left in her appearance are her sloped nose, freckle, and blonde hair. Her muscles ripple when she walks and her first sword becomes unusable. It upsets Klark to get a new one, which Indra can not comprehend.

"It is a sword,  _Klark,_ and it has served you well. Your hand can wrap entirely around to blade now, though! it Is too small," Indra says, dragging Klark to Ton DC's blacksmith. The young girl is giving the warrior her money's worth as she thrashes immaturely. 

"But it is my first one! You gave it to me when I was ten, I can't just abandon it!"

"You can if you want to remain my Second! Do you know how much money I spend on food and bigger clothes for you? You are getting a new sword," Indra remains firm as they arrive at the blacksmith. 

It doesn't take long for Klark to stop whining when she sees a sword she likes. It has a black leather hilt and simple scabbard, but the steel itself has been mixed with blue to create swirls and meaningless patterns in the blade. 

She hangs her first sword over her bed.

* * *

 

When Indra tells Klark to train with Nyko four days a week, she is furious. Is this Indra's way of kicking her to the curb like her mother? Klark argued with her for the majority of the night, not sleeping after Indra retired and intercepting the warrior again in the morning.

"Why? Because is said to,  _Klark!_ " 

"That isn't a reason! You don't have a good enough reason to tell me to train with him, do you?"

"Of course I do! I'm your First, I know what is best for you."

"I thought I was training to be a warrior," Klark pouts at breakfast, barely touching her food.

Indra sighs in frustration,"You are going to be a warrior,  _goufa._ I'm sending you to train with Nyko so that we can have a competent healer on a battle field. Not that we'll be fighting anytime soon.  _Heda Leksa_ has this coalition almost complete. The only battle we'll be doing is during training and fighting the Mountain."

Klark nods. The commander's peaceful coalition was waiting on the Ice Nation to be fully formed. It surprised Klark that someone who once disembodied her competition for  _Heda_ was so quick to suggest peace between the clans. When the idea first came up, Klark had called the commander weak, which earned her a slap around the back of the head and no dinner.

"If I train with him, will I have two Firsts?"

"You can have as many as you like from different areas of training,  _sha._ "

"I only want one."

 

* * *

 

By the time Klark turned seventeen, her healing abilities were almost as good as her fighting ones and the coalition had been fully formed. It made almost no impact on her, but Indra often said that it was odd to walk around Ton DC and see Plains Riders and Ice Nation milling about as they traveled to Polis and back.

"My question is, if she has attained all this peace and strengthened her army, why doesn't  _Heda Leksa_ attack the Mountain Men?"

"Your question is dumb,  _goufa._ "

"I'm serious, _Linkon!_  Why don't we attack now?"

Lincoln, twenty one and lively, looks at her as if she has gone mad. The pair are walking to the training grounds from Nyko's tent, something they've been doing since Klark started working as a healer in her spare time.

"The fog is a little bit of a problem,  _sha?"_  

Klark stops walking, realization crossing her face. She has only ever seen the fog from a distance, but she knows the stories and the danger from Indra's lessons. Lincoln smiles at her facial expression as he fights off a laugh. 

"I really am a  _goufa_ aren't I?"

" _Sha, Klark,"_ he says, letting out a small chuckle as she lightly punches him. 

"Are you coming to the party tonight?"

"Your aging party? I wouldn't miss it," Lincoln says, swerving his body to avoid a merchant with their arms full of boxes. "Is Indra really going to teach you how to hold your ale, or was that a rumor?"

Klark blushes as the warrior's chuckles reverberate out of his large chest. It was true, Indra was going to teach her how to remain sober for as long as possible, but the only other person she had told that to was Anya.

"Has that old _snacha_  been running her mouth again?"

The pair crack up as they move out of the way of a wagon. After sparring with Klark, the general had stayed in Ton DC, helping to train the young warriors with Indra. Every once in a while she was summoned to Polis, but the warrior always returned. Klark secretly believed that she stayed to watch the blonde, but Indra looked down on those egotistical views. 

"You know she has. Let's just hope Indra doesn't find out."

They continue to crack jokes at Anya and Indra's expense until they reach the training grounds, smiles still on their faces. The pair bump into each other as they get armor from the shed, their small brushing match turning into a full on pushing battle. 

"What is that?" Lincoln asks, pointing up into the sky. An earsplitting boom is heard and Klark covers her ears as the foreign object falls towards the ground.  A large cloth shoots out from the top and slows the building-like craft down just before it disappears behind the trees. 

The earth shakes as it lands.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our favorite band of misfits is here! As always, find me on Tumblr at hedagriffen and leave feedback below!


	6. Skaikru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our favorite misfits are idiots let's be real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To distinguish between English and Trigedasleng, anytime a Grounder talks to a sky person I'll say that they are talking in English, otherwise it is Trigedasleng :)

Klark had never seen Indra more worried than right after the ship landed. The warrior was up and running out of the training grounds before the ground had finished shaking, on e hand resting on the sword hidden in her scabbard and the other pumping furiously as she ran. Klark and Lincoln made to follow her, more confused than anything, but the young Second and her companion were stopped by Anya.

"Do not follow her,  _Klark,_ she has enough on her mind right now."

"What? I'm her  _seken_ , I have a right to know what's going on! What was that  _Onya?_ " Klark's confusion was evident and the hulking warrior behind her was exhibiting even more.

"She is the leader of Ton DC and has more to worry about than her  _goufa_ of a Second following her around like a puppy. If you want to do something, try to calm the people in the village while Indra sends a messenger to Polis," Anya says, pushing Klark and Lincoln away from the training grounds and towards the center of Ton DC.

Klark grumbled as she guided villagers into their homes and deflected questions with  _okays_ and  _I don't knows._ It seemed as though everyone thought the ship was an  _Azgeda_ attack or a missile from the Mountain Men, and answering the same questions over and over again made her irritated and tired. It didn't help that every time she saw Lincoln, the warrior had the same calming smile and steady hands as if he were talking to his mother instead of a panicked blacksmith with three  _yongons_ attached to his legs.

The blonde envied Lincoln's ability to remain steady while she was antsy and annoyed. How could he stand these villagers and their questions? It was as if the people around her hadn't heard her explanation of the event two minutes before. Lincoln noticed this and pulled Klark aside much to her thankfulness. 

"Do you remember my cave?"

"The one near that crash?"

"Yeah. Can you go there? I'll meet you.  _Onya_ wants me to scout the ship," Lincoln says, guiding Klark to his home. 

"Wouldn't I have to tell Indra?" Klark asks, watching as Lincoln packs a bag with food and clothes.

"I'll tell her that you are helping me. Just go now while people are still panicking so she won't see you."

"It sounds like I'm not supposed to be doing this,  _Linkon_ ,"Klark says, a smile flitting across her face at her friend's grin. 

"I find it better to ask forgiveness than permission, don't you?"

Lincoln shoves her out the door before pulling her hood up and over her hair. She frowns at him, but her just shrugs. "It's a dead giveaway."

Klark shakes her head before walking away, stepping aside every once in a while for a frightened child or a stressed warrior. She makes it to the forest easily enough and breathes a sigh of relief before starting the trip to Lincoln's cave.

* * *

The cave was dark and wet, and Klark hated it the second she stepped inside. The warrior yearned to light candles or a fire, but the thought of Reapers stopped her. Instead, she explored the main living space. A bed was on the far wall and shelves with vials of poisons and antidotes were on the other. The empty fire pit sat in the middle of the room, sticks and logs laid on top of one another. Ropes and chains hung on each wall and a drawing of a drop ship was slightly hidden by a hook.

Klark shivered as she pulled her coat tighter to her body and sat by her sword as she waited for Lincoln. It wasn't long before her eyes drooped and sleep overcame her.

* * *

"Wake up _Klark!"_  

Klark jumps up as Lincoln's voice startles her awake. She can hear the warrior chuckling behind her and rolls her eyes.

"Was that necessary?" Klark asks, rubbing her eyelids and turning to face a smiling Lincoln.

"What, would you rather it have been a bucket of water?"

A playful punch lands on Lincoln's arm, causing both of them to burst into laughter. "How long was I out?"

"Since I got here? About five minutes," he says, still laughing. Klark's next hit is a little harder and Lincoln's hands shoot up in a form of surrender. " Come on, let's go find out what that thing was."

Klark grabs her sword and scabbard and places them around her hips before grabbing her bag and following Lincoln out of the cave. They travel quickly, only stopping when the telltale sounds of people reach their ears. The pair creep along until the towering structure of the ship that fell can be seen through the trees. Klark can see people running around the trees and grass, or just standing in the middle of a patch of sunlight. 

"They look young, maybe around your age,  _Klark,"_ Lincoln says, watching a small group huddled around what appeared to be a map. 

"Their clothes are odd, and they act as though they've never seen the forest before," Klark says, peering through a bush at a few of the invaders laying on the ground.

"I don't think they have."

"How many do you think there are? What if they are a raiding party from the Mountain?"

"They would have those suits on that Indra told us about. I think they came from the sky," Lincoln says, pulling out a small book and a pencil. Every few seconds, he marked a tally in the first page. Klark watched as Lincoln counted, following along as he added more and more tallies. 

 "A hundred and one? Are you sure you didn't count some twice?" Klark asks, concern covering her face. Lincoln nods grimly, realization that the threat was bigger than they had realized. He taps Klark as the group that had been huddled around the map moved outside of the ship's clearing. 

"They're heading toward the Mountain," Lincoln says, eyes following the last visible boy as he enters the forest. "We need to follow them."

The pair get up from their hiding place as edge around the clearing, Klark watching the intruders while Lincoln focused on finding the trail of the separated group. Once he finds it, the warrior grabs Klark to pull her close to him. They follow the six sky people as the group heads towards the river. Lincoln swings around to flank them, staying inside the tree line to watch. "If they cross that river, they'll be in  _Trikru_ territory," he says, eyes following a girl as she gets into the water. It becomes evident that she cannot swim, yet she continues to smile. The girl entrances him with her beauty and freshness. 

Klark watches as Lincoln eyes the girl in the water, rolling her own at his obvious interest. "You're thinking with your  _hefdong_ _, Linkon._ If you could please pay attention to the rest of them that would be nice," she says, pushing him slightly. The blonde watches as the girl in the water edges closer and closer to the center of the river. "She doesn't known about the monster."

Lincoln tenses as he realizes the truth in Klark's words. If the girl knew about the river monster, she wouldn't be in the water in only a shirt and her small covering. He sees the giant snake before the sky people do and so does Klark. The girl beside him gasps as the sky girl is pulled underwater, her scream cut off by the river. The pair can hear the sky people shouting and panicking as the snake lets her go. A couple of the boys push a rock into the water to distract it while another runs down the bank to jump in. 

"They are both incredibly stupid and smart. If none of them can swim, why would he jump in to save her?" Klark asks, watching as the boy with goggles pulls the girl they called Octavia out of the water. 

"They weren't taught like us. Sacrificing the few to save the many wasn't on his mind," Lincoln answers, hearing the confusion in Klark's voice. It confuses him too, to see people Klark's age with knowledge about the forest the same as a  _yongon's._ "We need to get back and report to Indra.  _Heda_ needs to know about this."

* * *

Indra wouldn't let Klark out of her sight for a week after that. Once Lincoln had left, she had ripped into her Second about disobeying orders and worrying her. It didn't help that the pair's information had worried Indra further, making her send another messenger to Polis only a few hours after the first. It wasn't until Lincoln came back to Ton DC with news that the sky people had started making a wall and had a definite leader that Indra agreed to Klark completing her training as a Second by going back with the slightly older warrior to help him with his scouting. The idea of finally becoming a warrior on her own made Klark eager and excited. She had trained with Indra for seven years, and this was her moment to move on. 

Klark left Ton DC in a hurry, not even thinking about where Lincoln was. He had left two days ago to go back to his cave, but Klark hadn't heard from him since. The young warrior made her way to his cave, weaving through the trees. She was still caught up on Indra's final mission when she entered the cave, not noticing the girl on the floor until she had set her bag down on the floor. Klark had turned around, hearing the hurried breathing and rattle of the chains, gasping quietly as she saw the girl called Octavia on the floor. 

The girl was scared, and it was obvious. There was a wound on her leg that had been cauterized by who Klark assumed was Lincoln, and her eyes were wildly searching Klark. Both girls were frozen as they locked eyes, neither one wanting to break contact first. Klark raised her hands, palms toward the girl on the ground, in a gesture of peace. She tried to recall the English lessons with Indra before speaking to the girl.

"Who are you?" Klark asks, moving to sit across the fire pit. Her accent was stronger than she would have liked from speaking  _Trigedasleng_ for so long, but the words got out okay. The girl still looked scared, and Klark knew she had to give more to get anything out of her. "I am a friend of  _Linkon's_. This is his cave."

"He's the one who saved me?"

"You tell me," Klark says, watching as the girl gets more comfortable with her.

"I fell and hurt my leg. He sealed it with his blade," the girl says.

" _Sha_ , that is what our people do to stop the bleeding. I've trained with our healer,  _Linkon_ did the right thing." There was a pause, where both girls eyed the other. Klark could tell that the girl in front of her was strong, and that the chains were the only things stopping her from doing everything she could to get out. "What is your name?" Klark tries again.

"Octavia."

Klark smiles at finally getting through to the girl. "My name is  _Klark."_

"Clarke?"

"Yes. And you are  _Oktevia,_ I thought we went over that."

Octavia smiles. The girl in front of her, Clarke, wasn't much older than her. Her muscles and clothing were scary, sure, but she seemed nice; nothing like the Grounders that Bellamy described. The brunette wonders if Lincoln was like this too, a hard exterior with a kind interior. The girls carry on a slightly strained conversation about favorite colors before the sound of footsteps has Klark jumping up. Octavia, with her untrained ears, doesn't hear the steps until Lincoln comes into view.

"What are you doing with  _ai honon?"_ Lincoln asks, eyes traveling from Klark to Octavia.

"What are you doing with a  _honon?"_ Klark counters, watching as Lincoln moves further into the cave.

"I saved her but she tried to get away, I didn't want her to reveal where my cave was."

Klark nods, looking back towards Octavia. The girl is watching them silently, obviously not comprehending their language. "I'm going to try to find some dinner," Klark says before grabbing her bag and leaving the cave.

"She's going hunting for some food," Lincoln tells Octavia, his English slightly better than his counterpart. Octavia nods and watches as Lincoln unpacks his things before turning to her and moving to remove her chains.

 

When Klark returns, the cave is empty and there is blood on the floor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Leave feedback down below and find me on tumblr!


	7. Linkon's Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln is captured by the 100 after being ambushed. Klark tries to get him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated lol. If anybody still wants to read this, please share it! I'm going to be updating a lot now! This story hasn't left my mind since May.

It does not take Klark more than three minutes to figure out where Linkonand Oktevia had gone. The blood on the floor of the cave is still wet, and the obvious signs of a struggle are spread around the enclosed space. The young warrior quickly grabs her small bag and sword before exiting the cave, only to discover a whipping wind and a biting rain. Klark powers through the torrential downpour, clothes and hair being sacrificed for time and distance. At one point, the wind becomes so powerful that it flings her into a tree three times as big around as she is. Her shoulder protests, and so does her voice, but both are drowned out by the tempest surrounding her.

By the time she reaches the  _Skaikru_ camp, the storm has forced her into submission, bending the young warrior under a fallen tree to escape. The position Klark finds herself in is cramped and uncomfortable, and the wood above her is not waterproof, which is evident by the water constantly dripping onto her body. The blonde is made aware of just how dangerous her current situation is when she hears young  _Skaikru_ yelling through the hurricane. Making out everything that they said would be impossible, even in better conditions, but she still tries to twist under the tree to see where her threat lies.

No more than 200 yards to her left is the foreign ship that crashed not too long ago. The only thing protecting the warrior from the sight of the  _yongons_ is some sparse foliage and their own stupidity. She is almost surprised that they cannot hear her bones shuttering and her teeth chattering, but if any of Linkon'sresearch was true, it was that these children could not distinguish a chatter of teeth from the squeal of birds. Klark watches as they scurry to tie everything down in the rain, she almost laughs when a makeshift tent flies up and knocks two boys down, but she refrains out of fear and caution. It isn't until the remaining few hurry into the vessel that she relaxes enough to assess the situation. 

Klarkthen makes the decision to move, twisting and scooting out from under the tree and standing against the wind.  She hurries to the metal siding of the ship, the cold temperature matching her own. She can vaguely make out a conversation through the wall, but the panicked voices and constant pinging of rain makes it hard to distinguish words and people. The blonde can make out, however, thatLinkon, in his attempt to fend off the invading party of  _Skaikru_ , had stabbed one of the  _goufas_ who had gotten to close. It gave Klarksatisfaction to know that it had also been a poisoned blade, one that she had given him for his coming of age feast. At least she had given him the antidote, one she had crafted under Nyko'swatchful eye. 

The voices inside died down as one became particularly clear. Klarkassumed the voice to belong to Belomi, their unofficial leader. 

"He coughed it up. Here."

"What did you have to do to get it? I thought you said torture wasn't working."

"It didn't. Not even electrocuting that sucker worked. Octavia poisoned herself with the blade, and I guess he's fond of her."

"Gross."

The conversation made Klark'sblood boil with rage. They had tortured Linkon for information, probably enough to render him incapable of speech anyways, the idiots. It also filled her with an odd sense of pride to know that the young sky girl Okteviahad used a clever trick such as poisoning herself to get the antidote. Even Klarkherself would not have thought of that. 

"In the morning, we'll go back out to his cave and see what we can find. He might have food."

"Maybe he'll have a sword we can run through him."

The answering laughter and snickering made Klarksick. That was her friend. Her comrade. Her brother. The first thing she was doing once the storm subsided was to get him out.

* * *

Octavia had had enough of Bellamy's behavior towards Lincoln. The grounder had saved her life, in his own way. And his friend Clarke had tried to make her feel comfortable in that cave. She almost mentioned the blonde grounder to Bell, but when he started torturing Lincoln, she thought better of it. Octavia couldn't let her brother do what he had done to her captor to anyone else, especially the young warrior with a kinder side than expected.

What really scared Octavia, however, wasn't her brother's actions and harsh words, but her own reaction to Finn's near death. She had sliced her own hand open with a knife she knew was poisoned, just to save a boy with floppy hair and a grounder who had kept her in his cave. The ground was already changing her, whether she was ready or not.

"I'm sorry about Bellamy. He was never very good at hiding his emotions while stressed," she says, surveying the grounder in front of her. His torso was bare, tattoos spiraling around raised bumps in his skin and the marks left by Bellamy's hand and belt. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Lincoln looks at her for what seems like an incredible expanse of time. His eyes, brown and passive, look almost as though they are searching the darkest corners of her mind. It thrills and scares her, and it isn't until he clears his throat that she remembers where she is.

"Find _Klark_. She won't be far, and she'll help get me out."

"How can you be sure?" Octavia asks, still skeptical of the pair.

"Just as you trusted me with the poison, trust me with this. And do not tell a soul."

"How mysterious."

He just eyes her, enough to make her slightly uncomfortable. She can barely get her head to nod before hurrying down the ladder, anxious to get away from the grounder's prying eyes and gorgeous body. As soon as her boots touch the ground, however, she is swallowed by an embrace far too foreign to be Bellamy's.

"Thank you, honestly. I patched through to the Ark and contacted Abby Griffin, but without your bravery, I don't know what I would've done. Thank you," the girl says, prying herself away from Octavia just enough to look into the younger girl's eyes. 

Octavia is engulfed by the emotions coming out of Raven, Finn's girlfriend. The mechanic had touched down just a few days ago, and yet she was already experiencing the turmoil of the ground. It brought unwelcome tears to Octavia's eyes, and she hurried to wipe them away. 

"It was nothing. Really. Don't mention it."

An enormous crash from outside the dropship haults Raven's response, and the entire ship goes silent. 

"What the hell was that?" Bellamy asks.

Octavia couldn't bring herself to want to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just a filler chapter lol, get excited for the next one, where our favorite commander makes an appearance ;)


	8. Dislocation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klark as no fucks to give.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okayyyy after 7 chapters of backstory and catching up...... the moment you have all been waiting for.......

Klark knew she was in trouble the second after the wind had forced her into the side of the ship. Her sword's scabbard clanged against the metal and her shoulder was hit with enough force to knock down a small hut. She cried out, much to her dismay, as the feelings of fear and pain overwhelmed her. All of her rage at the _Skaikru_ inside dissipated as the warrior stumbled towards the tree line, the rain and wind pushing her back. It took everything in her not to look back when she heard the ship's door open, when the absolute  _goufas_ left their shelter to investigate. After she crossed into the forest, it was easier to navigate, it would have been so easy to stop, but the throbbing in her shoulder pushed Klark to reach Linkon's cave. 

The blonde collapsed the minute she got inside, not even worrying about the stone floor or the bedroll two feet away. It took all of her strength to take off her jacket and belongings to reach the purple skin of her shoulder. There was an indentation of where the shoulder met the clavicle, a clear sign of dislocation. Klark grimaced; in all of her training with Nyko, with the blood, the vomit, and the death, the worst by far was popping a joint back into place. The blood and gut she could get over, but when Indra's shoulder disconnected with her chest a few months ago, Klark could barely make it outside in time. And fixing her own shoulder? She might as well return to Ton DC.

Returning to Ton DC, as favorable as it was, would mean failure. Klark would still be a Second, maybe for another year. She had to do this, to show that she was ready to continue her fight alone. If _Heda_ Leksa could do it at sixteen, Klark should easily figure it out at seventeen. 

The risk of further injury to her shoulder is what ultimately leads to Klark's decision to wait for Oktevia. Even with the girl's sparse, if any, knowledge of healing, the relocation of Klark's shoulder cannot be done alone. Her only hope lies within a small girl who has no idea how to help. A younger Klark would have laughed, but the seriousness of the situation eliminates that form of coping. 

* * *

 

It takes six hours for the storm to subside, and another eight for Octavia to escape Bellamy's watchful eyes. She had to rescue Lincoln before the rest of the 100 killed him. Lincoln's only form of advice was to find Clarke, to Octavia's confusion. Was Clarke Lincoln's wife? The idea of the Grounder having a a significant other made Octavia surprisingly jealous as she walked in the forest. 

"Where are you going?"

The sound of another voice besides her own startled Octavia. She whipped out her knife as she turns around, only to see a surprised Raven.

"Raven? What are you doing out here?" Octavia asks, confusion clear on her face as she puts away the knife.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Were you following me?"

"That depends on where you're going."

Octavia huffs in frustration. She wants to confide in the engineer, truly, but the mere thought of looking for another Grounder is incredulous in its own right. Their first real encounter with these warriors ended up with Raven's boyfriend being stabbed with a poisoned knife.

Raven takes Octavia's hesitation as a confirmation, "I'm going with you."

"What? No! I'm just going to his cave I-"

"You are not going by yourself! What if there is another Grounder there? The buddy system always works," Raven says, smiling as she links arms with the younger Blake.

* * *

Klark awakes to immense pain and the sound of footsteps. She hastily fumbles with her gear to retrieve her sword, but the inability to use her right arm slows her down tremendously. Her scabbard clatters to the ground, alerting the approaching footsteps. Klark curses her arm and silently waits in a cautionary stance. The hair on the back of her neck stands up, and the anticipation builds until Oktevia steps into the dim light of the cave. Concern immediately flits across her face as she takes in the sight before her.

"Clarke, are you ok?"

The young girl reaches a hand out, the same way Klark would to a wild horse. Oktevia is obviously worried, but her fear for the Grounders outweighs her want to help. 

"Octavia what are you-"

The second voice cuts off as another  _Skaikru_ steps into the light. This one is older, and at brief glance, Klark can see calluses on her hands and thin muscles beneath her jacket. The warrior's first conclusion is that the new girl is a warrior of the Sky People, although she probably trained less than Klark, given her stature. The blonde raises her sword, gritting her teeth and straining at the exertion. 

"You're hurt! Clark what happened?"

Oktevia moves to get closer to Klark, an action that is protested by both the second girl and the Grounder herself. 

"Octavia, don't! How do you know her name? They don't speak English."

"Yes they do Raven. Clarke is a friend of Lincoln's."

Reivon pulls Oktevia away from Klark, and the two commence in what appears to be a heated argument. It troubles Klark to no end to be so close to relief and potential death, but the pain in her shoulder prevents her from making the rational decision to kill them both. Even in her clouded mind, she almost has made that choice when the two girls turn back to her. 

"I'm sorry to surprise you like the, Clarke. Raven is a friend. I promise she won't hurt you-"

"Hurt her? Look at those muscles! I bet she could snap a piece of steel in half-"

"Raven, shut up," A look passes between the two brunettes, and Reivon becomes silent. The interaction would be amusing to the Grounder, had she not been in pain and known what steel was. "Clarke, your shoulder looks dislocated. Please, let me help you so you can help Lincoln."

At this, Klark perks slightly. " _Linkon_ is still alive?"

Reivon gasps at the heavily accented English coming from the Grounder as Oktevia continues, "Yes, and he needs you to help get him out, Clarke."

Klark sighs and slowly drops her blade to the ground. Oktevia slowly walks towards her, not wanted to frighten the Grounder. She takes hold of Klark's arm, must to Klark's obvious dismay.

"Okay, um, this is going to hurt I think. I don't know, I've never done this before. I mean I've seen it in the movies back on the Ark. Just brace yourself-"

" _Oktevia_ ," Klark says, cutting off the rambling teen. "Just listen. Take my arm and pull it lowly towards you until you hear a pop-"

"But it'll still hurt right?"

"I have been training to become a warrior for seven years. A little shoulder injury will not hurt," Klark says, not catching Reivon's eyes as they roll behind her.  

Oktevia only nods as she looks down at Klark's arm. Faint scars zigzag across the pale canvas, leading up to the now yellow bruise and misplaced shoulder. The young girl braces herself as she slowly pulls the Grounder's arm, still fearful of hurting the warrior. It takes longer than Klark would have liked to hear the pop, but the pain that shoots up her arm and then subsides reaches the forefront of her mind. She can still feel Oktevia pulling her arm, and her arm reaches out to grab the girl before she can think.

"It is  _odon, Oktevia,_ " and then realizing the sky girl has no idea what the means, the warrior backtracks. "It is over. Stop pulling."

"Sorry-"

"Jeez Octavia, I heard the pop from back here."

"Oh fuck off, Raven."

The girls laugh as confusion overtakes Klark; she clears her throat. "What is a 'fuck' as you say?"

Oktevia and Reivon pause before bursting into uncontrollable laughter, angering Klark. The two girls act like the blonde should know about something never taught to her. 

"You could say that she has no fucks to give, because she doesn't know what one is!" Reivon says, causing Oktevia to laugh even more, which surprises Klark. A scowl quickly takes over her features as the two girls compose themselves. 

"Don't worry, Clarke. You'll find a fuck one day."

"I thought you wanted me to find a way to get _Li_ _nkon_ out?" Klark says, tired of the shenanigans of the two sky girls. 

Oktevia sobers up enough to remember why she came to find Klark in the first place.

"That would be helpful, actually."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just kidding. I told you it was a slow burn and slowly burn it shall. praise me in the comments and you may get to meet Lexa next chapter lol ;)


	9. The Battle Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klark knows where her loyalties lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots of season one rewriting :)

"So you're telling me that these nuts will make everyone have hallucinations?"

Klark rolls her eyes at the Skayon. No matter how many times she explained the small nuts resting in her palm, Oktevia always found a way to ask another question.

" _Sha_. Long enough for you to get  _Linkon_ out," Klark replies, giving the handful of nuts to Reivon before reaching back into a small pouch on her belt for more.

"That's awesome! Think of all the stuff we could get away with when everybody eats these," the older Skayon says, rolling a jobi nut between two fingers.

"You have one task,  _Reivon._ Please remember it."

Reivon nods to Klark before putting her share of nuts into a small compartment in her fiery jacket. "May we meet again, Clarke. Thank you for you help," she says, eyes finally meeting Klark's for the first time. 

It both warms and concerns Klark to know that the Sky girls wish to see her again. Friendship was out of the question for these intruders and the soldier in training, but Klark can see the appeal of the two girls in front of her. Linkon was her only companion of that nature, and she often got lonely when he was gone.

"Yeah, um, thanks. May we meet again," Oktevia says, hands twitching and feet bouncing. 

Klark only nods before sending the girls out of Linkon's cave and towards their camp. They would meet face to face again if Linkon was returned safely to her, if not, they would meet face to sword. Klark grips her sword's handle at the sudden thought, disturbed by her reaction to the possible failure of the Skayon walking away.

* * *

 

When Octavia and Raven return to the dropship, the remaining survivors of the 100 are tense. Shooting off flares did not sit well with most of the camp, and contacting the Ark was definitely not on some of the criminals' to-do lists. 

"Where have you guys been?" A ragged Bellamy asks, approaching the two girls. "The Ark radioed again. They said that there might be a depot nearby with supplies, so a few of us are going to check it out."

"We went looking for that Grounder's cave, actually. I wanted to see what else was in there that we could use," Octavia responds, subconsciously looking towards the top of the dropship.

"Did you find anything?"

"Just some nuts and a few knives. The guy obviously doesn't live there permanently," she says, pulling out the jobi nuts. Bellamy nods and gestures to Monty and Jasper.

"They're rationing food, give those to them so they can pass them out evenly," he orders before heading towards a small group by the edge of the clearing.

"I'm going to go check on Finn," Raven says, leaving Octavia with her nuts and the task of getting everyone high.

"Awesome," Octavia mutters as the older girl walks away. She huffs as she makes her way to the two boys, already annoyed by their future jokes and Jasper's wandering eyes before any conversation begins between them.

"O! What's up?" Jasper says, excitement and a little hope lighting up his face. 

Octavia forces a scowl down as she stops in front of the boys. "Raven and I found these nuts and Bellamy told me to give them to you. He said you're in charge of rationing."

"Yep, that's us! He left us in charge of that, I think it might be because i got speared and he feels bad but-"

"Thanks, Octavia. we'll pass these out real quick," Monty says, effectively cutting off Jasper's embarrassing rambling. Octavia shoots him a thankful glance before moving away from the two boys and into the dropship. 

She's met almost instantly with the sight of a pale Finn, torso bandaged and bloody, on a table to the right of the room, snoring. She peers over to the radio to find an empty corner of the dropship, no Raven there either. A sick feeling enters her stomach as she climbs into the second level, which is also empty. 

"Raven?" she calls, dread coating the name as she reaches the top rung of the ladder, pulling herself up. 

"Hey, just asking macho here some questions," Raven answers, arms crossed and face full of attitude.

"And why would you do that?"

"To see if Clarke is really a friend of his like she says. She's kind of scary, if you haven't noticed. I'm hoping those nuts she gave us aren't poisonous."

A small growl flowers from the Grounder's chest in front of her. "She is no  _natrona._ She told you the truth," he says, turning his angered face to Octavia. "I hope you are here to save me as I saved you, instead of questioning a warrior's motives like a fool."

"I am going to free you, yes. We just have to wait for the nuts to kick in," Octavia says, slightly defensive after Lincoln's harsh words. 

"Do you think that swordfish could fight people with swords and win?" a voice floats up to the trio from outside, followed by many hazy groans and laughs.

"I do believe that the jobi nuts have worked," Lincoln says, smirking.

* * *

 

Klark staggers into Ton D.C. weary and worn. Her shoulder still thrums with pain and her eyes are almost shut with sleepiness. After the Skayon left, she figured her best option was to report everything to Indra, but now that she's here, the blonde warrior suddenly feels like that was a poor decision. Indra, all fiery anger and barely contained relief of seeing Klark, bursts into view with the lookout who saw Klark. 

" _Klark!_ Where have you been?" she says, reaching her Seken with a huff of exasperation.

"Scouting with  _Linkon_ , but he went and stabbed a Skayon and got himself captured," she says, slowly reviving herself to a less-sleepy state.

"He did what?" Concern flashes across Indra's face as she pulls Klark through Ton D.C. hurriedly, then directing her into their house. 

"Stabbed a Skayon. He got captured, so I went to their camp in the middle of the storm-"

"Why would you do that? Do you know how dangerous that is?" Indra asks, incredulous.

"I thought the rain and thunder would mask my approach, and it did. I did everything you taught me. The only problem is that the wind pushed me into their ship, and my shoulder dislocated," Klark says, taking the water offered to her gratefully. When she was done drinking, she continued. "The next day I was back in his cave, deciding whether to quit and come back, when two sky girls came in."

"Did you kill them?"

Klark smiles softly at Indra's eagerness. "No, I could not even hold my sword because of my shoulder, and you know I am terrible with my right hand." 

" _Sha, goufa_. Continue."

"One of the girls offered to reset my arm and I gave her jobi nuts to get their new prisoner out," Klark rushes, knowing that if she doesn't get out the full story right now that she will be punished for trusting intruders. "I came back to report and ask what has happened since I left."

Indra sighs through her nose in a poor attempt to hide her anger. "So you just let some foolish, possibly dangerous girl reset your shoulder? Are you mad? Is your arm okay?" Klark's Fos grabs her left shoulder gently, noticing the discomfort in the blonde's face immediately. 

" _Moba._ "

"It is alright, child. What is more important than this is the issue of the Skayon. They set off missile-like shots into the sky, and those shots destroyed the small village by the lake where you like to swim."

Shock overtakes Klark's face as she imagines the scene in her head. An entire village destroyed, dozens of people killed. Men, women, children. Shock turns to grief as she remembers the children with whom she used to swim with right after her rise to Indra's Seken. Grief then turns into anger and hatred.

"That would be an act of war," she states, looking at her Fos.

Indra nods. "And with what you have told me, these children from the sky have taken one of our own as prisoner. Another act of war.  _Onya_ and  _Tristan_ are on their way by order of the Commander."

"We are going to war then?"

"There are scarcely seventy of them. This is no war, it will be a massacre. Unless they conjure up a miracle, they will be dead within the week."

Childrens' faces swim in Klark's mind again. " _Jus drein jus daun._ " 

 Indra swells with pride. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a big day."

* * *

 

Linkon arrives in Ton D.C. around midday with more news. The Skayon want to negotiate peace.

"Peace! They attack first, and now they are scared, like fools. They have just started a war they cannot finish!" Onya's voice rings out in the small, makeshift tent constructed for this meeting.

"They found  _fayoguns_ ," Linkon says, quieting the mumurs between Indra and Klark. 

"Where did they find those?" Indra asks, suddenly concerned about the growing threat of the Skayon.

"A bunker to the west. I do not know how many, the girls who saved me told me about wanting peace and shoved me away, but I still saw them. It had to be close to a dozen," Linkon says, face hard and words covered in barely there anger. 

"So we attack now, so that they cannot attack later," Onya says.

"That will only stir up more trouble for Ton D.C. and the surrounding villages. The Maunon will be attracted to the gunfire and you know it," Tristan states. 

In Klark's opinion, Tristan was a pathetic excuse for a general. When compared to Onya's flaming desire for victory and blood, his calm disposition about the entire situation unsettles the Seken. Why wasn't he more concerned with the threat of guns? Or more importantly, children with guns?

Klark clears her throat, almost unintentionally. All at once, all eyes are trained on her. 

"Do you have something to say?" Indra asks, facing her Seken. 

"I just had an idea-"

"What could a lowly Seken think of that would be important right now?" Tristan says, exponentially increasing Klark's dislike for him. 

"Hush, fool. Had you no ideas when you were just a 'lowly Seken?'" Onya asks, defending a surprised Klark. She then motions for her fellow blonde to continue.

"I think we should have our own prisoner if the peace talks do not work. They have hand held radios that let them communicate with each other. If we capture someone with one of those devices, we will be able to know what they are doing without them knowing."

The silence in the room is deafening once Klark is finished. Her self consciousness heightens as the generals and officials in the tent look around each other. She can tell that Indra is containing pride as she assesses the room. 

"That is not a bad idea, Seken. Unless anyone else has a better plan?" Onya says, recieving only silence. "Good. Looks like we're going to negotiate peace, and if that doesn't work, we will destroy them with their own technology."

"Well done,  _Klark._ " Indra whispers as Onya and Tristan walk out of the tent. Linkon smiles at her before he leaves, and she suddenly feels ten pounds lighter. 

 


	10. Unity Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unity Day gets a different ending.

To Bellamy, Unity Day was a lie. The Ark force-fed the story to its children too many times for it to be true. How was he supposed to believe that 12 countries allowed their space stations to join forces, especially when they had just gotten done blowing the others to smithereens? The only thing Unity Day ever did for Bellamy was get him out of class so that he could be with Octavia.

Maybe thats why he doesn't care about the party the hundred was throwing right now. Who was he to say that the kids around him couldn't celebrate one of the only real holidays of the Ark? Bellamy can't stop them now anyways, Jasper's latest brew of moonshine has just been popped open. The effects the horrid drink has on the delinquents around Bellamy are startling, sure, especially when he knows that the Grounders are not far away, but to take it away now would cause total anarchy. After everything that happened with Raven and the radio, it would probably lead to a mutiny. The only reason why he was still leading this band of misfits is because nobody else has the balls to do it.

Should they all be worrying about the impending threat of people all around them? Yes. Should they be trying to get the walls better fortified instead of loudly drinking and laughing the night away? Absolutely. Bellamy has never been one to deny fun, however, and his first mentality of "whatever the hell we want" kind of left him between a rock and a hard place in terms of leading. 

The only thing Bellamy can do now is sit back with his apple and watch over the people under his care. At least, he tries to, before Finn spots him as the floppy haired boy exits Raven's tent. Bellamy lets him come towards him, acting as though he has yet to see the younger boy. He's halfway through a bite of his apple as Finn stops beside him.

"You asked Raven to make bullets on Unity Day?" Finn asks, his eyes watching the freckled man beside him. His brow is furrowed as he searches for answers in Bellamy's unresponsive face.

"She volunteered to help, actually. Raven knows what's coming. You should probably thank her before the Grounders come, you know, because she's saving all of us right now," Bellamy says, throwing his apple core to the ground and facing Finn, one hand finding its way to his belt.

"We can talk to them. We have to stop history from repeating itself. I set up a meeting with the grounder we kept here to speak with their leader-"

"You've been talking to a Grounder?" Bellamy asks, face gaining color as his temper rises.

"Yes. And he says that he can convince his general to meet with us."

"How perfect."

"Please, Bellamy. Don't let innocent people die-" Finn cuts off his sentence hurriedly, but it's too late. He cannot take back his words, and Bellamy can't unhear them. 

The older boy nods before walking into the sea of kids dancing and drinking. If Finn wanted him to talk, then Bellamy would talk. He would do anything to save lives, especially right now. The weight of the deaths back on the Ark still press against his shoulders everyday, no matter what reason he tried to justify himself with, and his guilt is heavier than the dropship. He makes his way through the teens to Raven's tent, pushing his way inside to find a smiling Jasper and tired Raven.

"What's up, man?" Jasper asks, turning to face Bellamy with open arms. Bellamy doesn't hesitate to shove an unloaded gun into his hands.

"Take this. I need bullets, Raven-"

"For what?" Raven stares at Bellamy, searching his face. 

"Finn is being stupid. He set up a meeting with the grounder we had in the dropship to negotiate peace. Jasper is our backup," he explains, reaching for a box of bullets. Raven's hand darts out to stop him.

"Then I'm coming too. I haven't checked those yet, here," she says, pushing a few cartridges into Bellamy's chest. He nods before stepping out of the tent.

"Well, let's try not to get killed, yeah?" Jasper says, following Bellamy.

* * *

 

It's just past daybreak as Finn and Bellamy step onto the bridge. It takes the older boy a few seconds to register his sister standing in front of him, his confusion giving way to realization and anger.

"So this is how you set it up. You're the one who let him go, aren't you Octavia?" Bellamy asks, approaching the girl.

"I trust him, Bell."

"Guys, someone's coming," Finn says, pointing to the other end of the bridge. The trio pause, watching as Lincoln emerges from the forest.

Below the bridge, Jasper and Raven move into position. Raven has Bellamy's second gun, and she uses the scope to watch Octavia hug the grounder.

"So that's how he got out," she says, feigning ignorance. 

"Yeah," Jasper answers, face riddled with a sudden look of hurt and envy. "Are those horses?"

Bellamy can't believe his eyes. Actual horses on the ground, not even 300 yards away. Four of them walk proudly, heads jutting into the air, fur shiny, and manes tangle-free. It's hard to tear his eyes away from them.

"I thought we said no weapons, Lincoln?" Finn asks, jolting Bellamy out of his admiration. He suddenly wishes for his gun as he sees the swords, knives, bows, and arrows that the four Grounders in fromt of him are armed with. 

"I was told there wasn't going to be any," Lincoln says. "It doesn't matter now."

"Like hell it doesn't! How are we going to defend ourselves?" Bellamy asks, facing Lincoln.

"This is a peace talk, Bell, not a battle," Octavia answers, moving to stand beside Lincoln. 

Bellamy breathes out of his nose as he turns back to the warriors. Two of them are dismounting and getting ready to approach the middle of the bridge. The one in front has sharp cheekbones, sunken eyes covered in dark paint, and dirty blonde hair with woven braids throughout. The one in the back has a hood pulled up around their face, but he thinks that he can almost make out even brighter hair beneath it. He looks to Finn before moving to meet them.

When he stops, the warrior in the back steps forward, effectively cutting off his view of Raven and Jasper out of the corner of his eye. From this distance, he can tell it's a girl, but it doesn't take her long to remove her hood and confirm his judgment. Her wild blonde hair is confined below the two braids that reach behind her head and merge into one. Her eyes are a shockingly vibrant blue encased by long eyelashes.

Her warpaint starts below her eye sockets and stops right near her hairline before turning sharply downwards into spikes that follow her cheekbones. It makes his eye gravitate to her nose, slightly upturned, and the freckle about her lip. Her face is absolutely menacing, warpaint and all, but what really unsettles Bellamy is the belt at her waist filled with knives, a small bag, and her sword scabbard. How could one person hold that many knives on them? There had to be at least twenty. He was going to count them all, but the other woman's voice pulls him back into the situation at hand. 

"You are Bellamy?" she asks, voice thick with her native language. She looks him up and down like he's a piece of meat, eyes travelling slowly up his body to his face.

"That's me." He replies, voice almost cracking.

"I'm Anya. This is Clarke." Anya huffs, a look of boredom flitting over her sharp features. 

Bellamy sticks his hand out, hoping for a shake, but only recieves the disapproving eyes of the woman in fron of him. "I think we got off on the wrong foot, here. We want peace, to be able to live together," he says, retracting his hand.

"Your missiles burned a village to the ground. You can take innocent lives, but as soon as we retaliate, you raise your hands in surrender?" The blonde, Clarke, says, voice rough like gravel. She recieves a swift but apparently meaningful look from Anya before taking a step back.

"Missiles? You mean the flares? Those weren't an act of war! They were signals to our families is space-"

"You are invaders. Your ship landed on our land," Anya says, looking back to Bellamy.

"We didn't know anyone was here. We thought the ground was uninhabited."

"But you knew we were here when you captured one of our own and tortured him," the woman says, gritting her teeth. It occurs to Bellamy that this is going in the wrong direction.

"Look, the rest of our people are coming down in the next few days. Soldiers, yes, but also farmers, doctors, engineers. People who can help you," Bellamy says, grasping on to the hope that the Grounders need more technology. He needs this to work.

"Can you guarantee that they won't attack?"

"Not if we make peace now, before they get a chance to ruin it."

"Why would I make an alliance that can be broken the moment your people step foot onto this land?" Anya asks, crossing her arms.

Bellamy's mouth goes dry. The only alternative he has now is to bring up the technology that the Ark possesses. "Listen, you don't need to be the one to fire the first shots. Our people won't care about your reasons, and their technology will wipe you out."

"Are you threatening us?" Clarke speaks up again, pushing her shoulders back and appearing to look taller than before as she stares Bellamy down. 

Below the bridge, Raven lowers her gun. "The younger one looks pissed," she says, secretly hoping that Clarke is just acting.

"Yeah, Bellamy has that affect on people," Jasper jokes. He's smiling, but with one look from Raven, he shuts it down. He moves his scope back up to his eye to survey the bridge, moving his focus to the treeline before stopping. He slowly lowers his gun, face pale.

"What's wrong?"

"There are Grounders in the trees," he says, moving the scope back.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. One has a bow and one has a spear. Who knows how many more there are," he says, watching in silence as the warrior with the spear motions to the one with the bow. He sees the bow draw back, and acts before he can think. "Bellamy get out, run! They're going to shoot!"

Jasper pulls his trigger as he runs into the open. He watches one Grounder fall, then the other one, before a volley of arrows launches into the air from the other side.

"Jasper get down!" Raven yells.

 

* * *

Klark knew that the meeting was a bad idea. She even knew that going with Onya in Indra's place was rough. What she didn't expect was for a boy in goggles to run out of the forest yelling and shooting. Arrows fly over her head, and bullets whiz all around them. Onya reaches for a knife in her belt, moving to attack the Sky boy, Belomi. Klark can only watch as a bullet finds its home deep in her shoulder. The general cries out, and the younger girl rushes to her aid, helping her run back to the horses. 

"I can do it, get on your horse!" Onya orders, pulling herself onto the horse, her jacket slick with blood. 

Klark runs to her horse, a black beast with eyes that scare even the strongest of warriors, one blue, one black. She leaps onto his back and spurs him behind Onya and the two guards. They had to get to Ton D.C. to treat Onya's wound. 

"I'm going to kill those Sky people," she says, riding beside Onya to catch the woman in case of a fall.

"Blood will have blood, don't you worry." Onya says, turning her head slightly towards Klark, a wicked smile gracing her features.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! feedback is always welcome, and you can always come find me on tumblr at hedagriffen!


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